


Untouched

by watchthequeenconquer



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alternate Ending, Caretaking, Dead People, Detox, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e06 The Day That Wasn't, F/M, First Kiss, Lost Love, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Sibling Incest, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 20:59:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18582472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchthequeenconquer/pseuds/watchthequeenconquer
Summary: Alternate ending to s01e06 The Day That Wasn't.In all the timelines in all the world, Klaus never would've imagined Diego would be holding him together with the world about to come crashing down around them.





	Untouched

**Author's Note:**

> Title from The Veronicas 'Untouched'. The lyrics are worth a read, they summarise the entire mood of this story. 
> 
> I was really down when I wrote this, but these boys taking care of each other with Ben cheering them on really helped. 
> 
> This is pretty dark and it's riddled with cliches and likely timeline issues, but there's still humour and it ends on a positive note! Hope you enjoy x

“You don’t need to do this alone!” Ben calls anxiously from across their dead father’s study.

Klaus ignores him, wishing he was a better man for both his brothers as he silently watches Diego finish tying off the intricate web of rope with his one good arm that will bind him to a chair in the middle of their deceased father’s study.

“I’m such a piece of shit.” He thinks to himself as Diego stands and test the bindings, manoeuvring to admire his handiwork.

It’s more than just the physiological shock of the come down playing tricks on his mind, reducing his once capable body to a shaking, sickened shell. 

He doesn’t deserve this final act of kindness Diego’s offered him freely, when he could be spending his last days on earth fulfilling his commitment to bringing down the assassins that killed the Lady Cop who, Klaus can only assume from Diego’s refusal to talk about her, was the love of his life.

Never deserved Dave - the beautiful, strong, vulnerable, kind man he’s doing this all for. The mere utterance of his name reducing him to a hysterical, babbling mess in front of his brother as he retells their life changing time together with paralysing inadequacy.

Even though Klaus knows he’s nothing and deserves just as much, he can’t help but lean into Diego’s touch when he slaps him on the shoulder, brothers in apocalyptic arms. Turns his head towards the sound of his voice with the slightest smile, holding his gaze for the just wrong side of too long before Diego awkwardly breaks off.

When Diego heads for the door, Klaus knows it’s beyond pathetic but he can’t stand to be abandoned by the last living person that gives half a shit about him.

“Oh shit!” Klaus hisses, voice strained tighter than the rope constrict around his ribs and anchoring his legs to the hardwood.

Diego turns abruptly in the door way, the eyebrow on the scarred side of his face piqued in exclamation at the outburst.

“I need to pee.” He finishes helplessly. There’s no need to fake the quavering in his voice, the hopelessness in huge kohl rimmed eyes that pin Diego to the spot.

“Fuck’s sake.” Diego curses with a harsh exhale. He stands in the door contemplating and Klaus’ heart stutters in his chest for a second when he thinks he might just be sick enough of his bullshit, done with everything, to leave him like this.

“As much as I respect your service to our country in whatever timeline you served, if you try to escape, I am going to lay you the fuck out, understood?” Diego warns, fists clenching and unclenching in irritation as he takes a tentative step back towards his prone form.

“Please.” Klaus bobs his head in response, choking himself on the broken whine that escapes his throat before dropping his eyes to the floor. He hangs his head, unable to maintain eye contact as his mind ticks over wildly, fighting against the haze of desperation overwhelming him.

“Don’t.” Ben’s voice breaks through from somewhere he can’t see as his head hangs and Klaus gives a single nod in acknowledgment.

The deeply selfish part of him is hungry to incite the beating now it’s been offered up, but the shred of a conscience left to him restrains him from acting on the impulse. It might make him feel better, but it would only relieve Diego’s frustration for a second. After everything he’s put his family through, Klaus can’t be responsible for the crushing guilt that would follow.

The single footstep isn’t followed by others, an orphaned sound that echoes purposefully in the silence surrounding them. It hits Klaus with the stone-cold severity reserved for the first round of ammunition unloaded before day break in wartime, the finality of the latch clicking on the crypt door when his father would abandon him as a child.

“Are you okay?” Diego asks, and it’s so genuinely unforced that Klaus can feel his control beginning to unravel.

No one has asked Klaus since he returned from the past, too conditioned from their father’s brutality and their brother’s subsequent absence from their lives to question his withdrawn manner and battered appearance. He understands (the weight of the fate of the world has literally been dumped upon their collective shoulders), but he hadn’t prepared for any alternative other than getting himself through this alone.

Hell, when Diego agreed to tie him up, Klaus was ready to kiss his feet in gratitude at the barest act of kindness but settled for tying his shoes as requested, expecting the exchange of services to be the end of their interaction.

But Diego just had to engage with him while he was doing completing the task, drawing his pain to the surface as efficiently as a cut made from one his beloved knives as he asked about Dave, followed by the sharp ebb of relief all at once as they shared emotionally stunted stories of their lost loves. It was blissful to bask in their memories, if only for a second, before returning to reality. 

“Klaus?”

The footsteps begin again, and Klaus can’t focus on whether they are advancing or retreating. His head is suddenly too loud, wailing and pounding. Instead of being surrounded by the shrill shrieks of the hundreds of spirits that have tormented him throughout his life, the sensation is entirely internal, a blinding onslaught of feeling that would have been blocked by whatever substances he could ingest in what feels like a like time ago.

“Please.” Klaus whimpers, eyes slammed shut in terror. 

The deafening siren of white noise whirling in his head is pierced by the unhinged sound of his own desperate plea, offered up to the dead space. Tears spill freely from his eyes as he thrashes his head back and forth, violently attempt to free himself from the relentless pressure building in his head.

“Open your eyes, Klaus!”

The call is urgent but too soft, muted by the wall of intangible force threatening to drown Klaus, but he moves towards it blindly, a sliver of light breaking through the seemingly impenetrable.

“That’s it, baby. Come on, look at me. You can do it.”

The sentiment hits him harder than his first proper drag of air when he consciously comes to. He blearily notices that his body is trembling relentlessly, thick eyelashes dewy with tears that have spilled through his clenched shut lids. He can’t catch his breath and the ropes are choking him and he thinks with a weary fondness that just giving over to it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

“Just breathe.”

Klaus rallies like a good soldier, does as he’s told, focuses on the rise and fall of his chest. He finally manages to open his too heavy eyes and he feels Diego before he can see him. To keep the asylum of howling in his head at bay, he follows the calming sound of the knife cutting through the constricting bonds, almost moaning in relief as each snick releases the pressure in his chest and the heaviness in his arms.

“Diego.” Klaus groans dryly, voice cracking, his gaze finally settling on the dark form circling rapidly around him. His intense focus on the practical task at hand is soothing in its familiarity. He focuses on the feeling of Diego’s free hand on him, warm and constant as he works steadily through the restraints.

“You back, baby?”

There’s that word again. Klaus has no idea where the sentiment came from, remembers something faintly about Diego referring to him as ‘baby brother’ even though they were the same age as children, ever the protector of the siblings deemed less worthy by their father’s tyrannical standards. 

With the time that has passed and the distance created them since, it feels too intimate and Klaus lets out an over sensitised keen in response. The feeling is all too much and he’s leaning into it and pulling away from it all at once.

“Ssh, I’m nearly done. Just stay still for me, okay?” Diego murmurs. His voice is so deep and low in the nearly empty space of the room, contrasting so welcomely with the dull hum in Klaus’ head that he can practically feel it reverberating through him.

He does his best to reduce his trembling to a gentle shiver and his heart cracks just a little bit more when he knows that Diego, never being the best with words, only keeps talking to hold him there, prevent him from getting lost in the maze of his messed up mind. 

“That’s good, very good.” Diego praises and Klaus’ heart might be draining out but he feels whatever’s left swell on the next pulse, easing the ache there for a second.

His breath catches again as Diego finally enters his line of sight properly, dropping to his knees in front of him to loosen the ties around his legs. The pink slip of his tongue is poked out in concentration as he severs the knots as quickly and carefully as he can manage.

When Diego’s dark eyes glance up for half a second, concern visible there before dropping to continue his ministrations, Klaus feels a surge of panic shoot through him. Fear takes him over and before he can stop himself, he’s crying out and jerking hard against the final bonds in an instinctive bid to free himself.

“STOP MOVING!” Diego barks, his knife dropping to the wooden floor with a clatter that so loud to Klaus’ distorted ears that it’s like a gun shot.

Klaus freezes at the sound, eyes wide and lips trembling as he snaps out of his mindless haze of self-preservation. Diego’s face is so tight with anger, lips sealed and nostrils flared, eyes lividly wide that he can’t help the fresh flood of tears that spring into his eyes.

“Hang in there, Klaus.” Ben urges from across the room, all encouragement in his best attempt to keep the sadness out of his voice.

Klaus can’t hear him over the hallucinatory images of his own demise flashing unbidden in front of his eyes. He’s done it now without even consciously meaning to. He’s pushed his luck and pissed Diego off and Ben will follow him to help their other siblings as they go down fighting trying to save the world. Like he should be, would be if he wasn’t so weak, such a complete waste of human life. 

He’s going to get up and leave and Klaus will die here alone. In his mind’s eyes, the flames are already licking at the support beams. The smell of his flesh burning fills his nostrils and the room faster than the billowing smoke as his blood curdling screams go unanswered…

“Shit, shit, shit.” Diego curses as Klaus begins to slip away again in front of him, shaking out of his skin and whimpering harder than before.

“Ssh, ssh, shh, Klaus, stop that now, okay?” Diego soothes, speaking as slowly as he can manage, open palms raised. Klaus forces himself to try and remain conscious, concentrating as hard as he can on Diego’s words as he tries to console him, “Please baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just didn’t want to hurt you with the knife. Never want to hurt you, okay?”

When Klaus can’t stop shaking, he swears again quietly and tears at ropes around his ankles with his hands until they come free.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. Look, these are gone now,” Diego continues, rising up on his haunches as he holds up the now unattached rope for his brother’s inspection as if needing to prove his honesty.

Klaus starts at the movement like he’s been shocked, the short-circuited part of his brain barely capable of forming a cohesive thought convinced that Diego is moving to depart.

“Please!” Klaus begs as a fresh wave of tears fall, staining his cheeks with glistening trails of smudged eyeliner.

“Talk to me, baby. What’s going on in that head of yours, huh?” Diego asks softly, remaining still as his dark eyes roam over Klaus’ face for the answers he’s not sure he’s capable of giving.

“Please don’t leave me.” Klaus croaks brokenly. Half way to sober and completely devastated, in that moment, the relief of the admission is more potent than any high he’s ever chased.

He must lose time again because he’s suddenly sobbing uncontrollably, snot dribbling out of his nose and ugly tears and wretched noises pouring out like they might never stop. But the wet, crumpled mess of his face is pressed against something solid and warm and alive, and there’s a strong arm wrapped around his waist, anchoring him in place, while another hand strokes from down at the base of his neck up into his matted hair.

The repetitive motions follow the rhythm of the words being chanted into his ear. It takes Klaus a few minutes to register the three words being repeated over and over, but when it does, he feels the shredded mess of his heart pound in his chest with renewed urgency, like maybe it might’ve found something worth kickstarting for.

“I’m here, baby.” Diego murmurs over and over.

Klaus would happily die like this but Diego deserves more than that. If the ability to replicate the creation of the cosmos was a gift extended to him, Klaus would offer up the entire world in his weak, skinny little hands. But he can’t and even if he could, Diego deserves better so he settles on dragging his face out of the safe hollow of Diego’s neck.

“Diego...” Klaus whispers, hating himself for not sounding more in control, too soft.

Long, crooked fingers capable of pin-point accuracy in decapitation, fingers that have broken limbs and felt life itself drain out in their solid grasp, frame Klaus’ face in the most gentle caress he’s ever felt.

“I’ve got you.” Diego affirms and Klaus feels his skin heat up against the cold sheen of sweat from the tremors and the withdrawals like he’s never been touched before. It’s been decades since he’s been held like this and it takes everything within him to fight against the contact.

“You don’t have to do that....this...” Klaus begins offhandedly. It’s strangely comforting in his own warped, twisted way when he registers Ben sigh in irritation even though he can’t see him as he tried to channel the viciousness within him that came so easily as an addict, the defensive mechanism that made it effortless to continue on in blissful ignorance when anyone tried to give a shit about him.

But Diego’s hands are holding his face like he’s precious, like he’s worth something, and he’s so close and Klaus is so cold and when did being himself from before become so unbearably hard?

“Bullshit.” Diego shoots back easily. His crooked grin, soft and sad, is almost enough to distract from the worry darkening his already black eyes.

“Playing DIY rehab with you has been fun and all, but I think I’m over the worst of it now, you know?” Klaus tries desperately, rambling in the hope that some thread of his poorly woven logic will stick, “I’m grateful, but I think I can take it from here.”

“I’ll save you a spot in hell!” Ben calls from across the room and even in his completely exhausted state, Klaus has to fight not to roll his eyes fondly.

“Uh-huh.” Diego murmurs, unconvinced. He begins tracing the pad of his thumb down Klaus’ cheek to his jaw, his hold gentle but firm. It bothers Klaus to no end that even with his military training and two good arms, Diego is able to keep him in this chair by the sleight of his one workable hand alone.

“You’ve got things to do...” Klaus trails off, distracted by the delicious pull of Diego’s thumb against his stubble. 

He’s going to have to do something drastic, as Diego’s gentle touches leave him unable to move or break eye contact. Why couldn’t his power have been mind control? If only he could summon someone that could convince Diego, force him to leave even…

“Don’t go there.” Ben warns, pinching the bridge of his nose as Klaus predictably goes for the low blow.

“What about the Lady Cop?” Klaus asks, his attempt at flippancy turning hesitant as Diego’s hand stutters to a halt on his face.

“What about her?” Diego asks harshly, and Klaus flinches in spite of himself when Diego’s fingers flex unconsciously against his skin at the mention of his dearly departed Detective.

“Think about what she would want.” Klaus continues. He knows it’s pathetic and disgusting and manipulative, but isn’t that who he was…is? Even without Ben shouting at him to stop, he’s sick to his stomach at the words spewing out of him.

“This is what you’re going to go with, huh?” Diego asks, ominously calm. Klaus tries not to think about how quickly the stationary hand could move from his jaw to crushing his windpipe, silences the voice in his head that cheers for this outcome.

“Wouldn’t she want you to be out hunting those masked freaks who… or working with the team to save the world?” Klaus forges on, unable to make himself bring up her death again, even like this. He tries to make his voice more animated and become less aware of how close their faces are together. “Either one would work, as long as you didn’t kill anyone...”

“This is what hitting rock bottom feels like.” Ben groans as Diego stares at Klaus expressionlessly. 

“She told me!” Klaus continues, gesturing wildly, voice rising somewhat hysterically in his need to convince Diego as Ben shouts “NO!” as soon as he opens his mouth.

“It would be the ultimate testament to her memory...proving her wrong about you... while, you know, you get a… gold star from the police and justice is served.” He ends lamely.

Diego waits a beat before responding. Klaus winces in spite of himself when Diego’s hand moves, not to punch him in the face or pull away from him abruptly as he storms out, but upward to stroke Klaus’ cheek, the touch feather light.

“Now I know you were lying when you said you could summon her. You clearly don’t know her at all.” He responds flatly.

Klaus’ gums flap useless before his mouth shuts all together as Ben cheers, jumping up and down. 

“Seeing straight through your bullshit and not beating you to death! My boy has come a long way, which is more than I can say for you right now.” Ben glances at his big brother fondly before shooting Klaus a withering look.

“Shut up! I mean...what? But I-I...” Klaus stammers, completely devastated when his best attempt at baiting Diego’s famous temper is brushed away as calmly as the curls he’s currently pushing away from Klaus’ forehead.

He shuts his mouth again before he shames himself further and stills under the calming strokes. He can feel Diego chewing over his words in his mind just like Mom taught him before he finally responds an eternity later.

“P-Patch...” Diego stutters, and Klaus coos sympathetically, filling the silence with a gentle hum until Diego collects himself enough to speak again, “She is...was...about protecting the people that mattered first, not gunning down the bad guys.”

“But the end of the world...” Klaus tries to argue, lips trembling again.

“Is going to happen anyway without Five here, right?” Diego replies, gaze dropping to look at Klaus’ lips before staring into his eyes, “The mission doesn’t matter. Never really did.”

Klaus wants to keep fighting, to tell Diego he’s wrong and that he should go and spend his final hours on Earth with someone worth his time. But Patch is dead and their siblings are scattered, pursing their own unresolved goals or find solace amongst each other or getting as far away from the family as possible. 

There’s no Dave and no drugs and his body is aching with a tiredness he didn’t know he was capable of, dope sick and heart sick all at once. He wants to slide out of the chair and waste away into the floor boards but Diego’s holding him up with his unbroken hand and his determination and his devoted declarations.

“This? This matters. You matter.” Diego affirms and what’s left of Klaus’ heart turns to a pulpy ball of goo, “And if this is how it goes, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Of course their last day on the planet had to be the day Diego learned how to string a sentence together that didn’t consist of threats or sarcasm or aggressive grunting.  
Since there’s nothing he can say that will outdo Diego’s startlingly open sentiment, Klaus’ inner masochist decides to fuck thing up of his own accord through his actions.

Klaus summons the last shreds of his strength to surge forward and smash his face against Diego’s. The force of their clash with the small space between them forces Diego backwards with a loud exclamation. Suddenly revived, Klaus’ arms shoot out to pull him back in, dragging him back against him.

Their noses bump painfully and their teeth clash awkwardly, but Klaus’ open lips finally collide desperately with Diego’s pursed ones, uncoordinated and unsure. Diego’s lips are chapped and the barest hint of coffee and eggs is faint on his breath and if this is the end of the world, then at least Klaus can say he got a glimpse of heaven for just a second in getting to experience this for the first and last time.

“You idiot!” Ben groans sadly, shaking his head in despair as Klaus moves against Diego messily.

Predictably it’s over before it can even begin as Diego pulls back abruptly. The sick part of Klaus’ brain applauds at his own ingenuity, hoping that this twisted display of misplaced affection is enough to drive him away. He tells himself that’s all it is, a last ditch bid to do what’s right, even as the neglected part of him desperate for affection cries and rocks unstably.

“W-what...was that?” Diego stutters, mouth parted in shock as he stares at Klaus stupidly.

Panting hard and open mouthed, Klaus assesses the damage as his pulse hammers in his ears.

Diego is breathing as hard as he is. Despite their short contact, his lips are glistening with the sheen of spit and sweat that Klaus has pressed into his face. His kerosene eyes are blown wide in surprise, not disgust, darkened with concern and something deeper that in his shaken state, Klaus isn’t able to place. Most significantly, he isn’t running, rooted to the spot on his knees with his legs braced from the impact of the assault.

Fuck.

“K-Klaus...say something!” Diego demands, shaking him slightly with his hand, the hand that is still anchored to Klaus’ face and hasn’t let go despite his best attempt at a surprise attack. 

“Be careful, Klaus.” Ben begs and Klaus’ head snaps in his direction before swinging back to Diego, mouth trying to shape around words that won’t form.

He knows, like Ben does, that he needs to finish this now, but it’s impossible with Diego looking at him like that, wonderment poorly concealed behind a thin layer of scepticism. When he’s still touching his face like Klaus will inevitably shatter into a million pieces and he’s going to hold all the fractured bits of him together when he does with everything he has left.

“I need you, Diego.” Klaus says, terrified by the phrase that has chosen to come forward, unbidden like the dead revived. His eyes flutter shut as he braces himself for the fall out, unable to stand the revulsion, the abusive words or actions, the inevitable storm out that he has orchestrated.

With his vision gone, he squeaks in surprise when he feels Diego’s hand tighten on his face, hears Diego lunge forward, eyes jumping open in fright, bracing against the violence he’s bought upon himself.

In a million different timelines, Klaus never could have conceived he would live to exist in one where Diego responds by pulling him in by the chin, lips ghosting gently over his.

The moans echoing loudly through the empty room aren’t a malevolent spirit or Ben sighing despairingly, but are his and Diego’s, perfuming the air as sweetly as their mingling breathes.

Diego pushes forward and presses his tongue into Klaus’ mouth and Klaus just goes with it, drunk on the sensation of wanting and being wanted and wow, arousal is a whole different experience without being intoxicated.

It doesn’t remain sharp and consistent, but ebbs and flows, all muted, dizzying colours and sudden lightning sparks of electricity that white out your vision and empty your mind. He’s so present and exposed like a raw nerve and it’s as addictive as anything Klaus has ever drank, inhaled or ingested in his life.

“Are you still with me, Klaus?” Diego is murmuring against his lips and Klaus drags himself out of his trance, lost under the push pull of their hands on each other’s faces, necks and shoulders, the warmth of Diego’s mouth claiming his.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Klaus nods dreamily.

“Good.” Diego affirms, pushing Klaus to sit upright in the chair as he stands. Klaus whines momentarily at the loss of contact before Diego seats himself in his lap, thighs firmly planted on the ground to stabilise him, weigh him down as he drags a hand roughly through Klaus’ mess of curls.

Klaus’ head lolls back as Diego attacks his neck, arm coming around to lightly encircle his tapered waist. He whimpers as Diego bites into the exposed column of his throat, alternating between mouthing gently at his neck and clamping down so hard that the skin breaks.

Klaus keens and Diego laves his tongue over the wound, massaging it before returning to Klaus’ mouth, savage but smooth in his execution.

“Is this what you need, baby?” Diego asks, stilling for a second as he pulls back to look at Klaus’ face, still stroking it, maddeningly soft.

Klaus nods, gone with desire and the feeling of security that has wrapped around him like a warm, familiar blanket. Diego’s strokes become more insistent.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yeah, baby.” Klaus manages with a lopsided grin and god, when was the last time he smiled like this? He knows somewhere deep down that this should be wrong, but it’s been so long since anyone looked at him like that, made him feel so safe. Even though Diego’s taking charge, he can see it reflected back in his eyes, secure and hidden from the chaos of their broken lives and relationships and the world coming crashing down around them.

“What do you need? Want to give it to you.” Diego murmurs, between long, lazy kisses. He gives Klaus time to respond, collect himself while scattering any semblance of thought as they gently caress each other, move against each other without any real heat and yet all the intensity in the world

Neither of them are hard, but Klaus can feel from between Diego’s legs that he’s wet with slick. A blush spreads prettily from where Diego’s hand is still warming his cheek down to his chest when he thinks faintly that he could come just like this, full clothed and covered in Diego and his gentle caresses and soft rutting and enveloping kisses. That he doesn’t feel the need to, to chase that one final high, is a revelation in itself. 

“You hear me, Klaus?” Diego repeats, but there’s no bite in it. His eyes crinkle at the edges as he looks down at him, tracing his fingers along Klaus’s partly opened lips.

“This. You.” Klaus whispers, shutting his eyes as he drinks in the affection, lopping both arms around Diego’s neck and listening to the man above him sigh contentedly.

He feels the light building from behind his eye lids, a strange seismic pull building in the atmosphere around them that he feels in his entire body. 

He opens his eyes and Diego has pulled back with his eye brows furrowed, mouth parted in surprise as the world around them suddenly slows down then begins to fast forward, flashing in high definition as they cling helplessly to each other.

Klaus wraps both hands around Diego’s torso, dragging him in close as everything around them begins to rewind. If he hadn’t already known that the world was going to end, he’d definitely think he’d finally gone insane, because in the amidst the chaos, he swears he can hear the sound of a clock ticking, the beat of the hands increasing as time speeds up around them. 

Klaus wonders for a second if this is what dying feels like. He finds he can’t bring himself to give a shit because both of Diego’s hands are gripping onto his face and he’s mouthing something like “it’s all going to be okay” before existence blinks out in a pin prick of light like an old television screen turning off.

*

It’s 8.15am on Wednesday again and the family are discussing Luther’s revelation that the world is ending in three days in the living room. 

Ben is upstairs sitting on a bannister above them all, dangling his feet over the edge. 

“Hold the phone. We all died fighting this thing the first time around, remember?” Klaus interjects from his spot on the couch. Ben can see from here that he’s struggling, his head desperately trying to process all the new information on the same morning he’s made the decision to try and get clean to conjure Dave for what he knows now might be the last time. 

“Klaus, shockingly has a point…” Diego agrees from across the room. His voice is calm but Ben can see his fists clenching restlessly, torn between saving the world, the still gaping wound that Patch's death has left and his determination to close it by murdering the bastards who ended her life. 

“Time travel is bullshit!” Ben groans quietly to himself. 

Both his brothers are in pain, struggling silently with losses that their siblings can’t even begin to comprehend and their doing it alone. 

Ben had been there for The Day That Wasn’t. If he had a heart that still functioned, it would’ve broken a million times over as Klaus nearly gave in to his hopelessness, did everything in his power to push Diego away, only to finally believe that there might be some good left in the world after all when Diego managed to hold it all together. 

He didn’t know if his brothers being together like they were when time hit the reverse button was right or wrong, but it was the happiest he had seen them in years. 

“Oh shit!”

Ben gasps in surprise as Five crashes onto the bar in a chaotic ball of blue light, brushing off the landing and his siblings’ irrelevant questions as he steals Allison’s coffee. 

He knows Five's re-appearance means there’s hope for the world, but the selfish part of him wonders what this means for Klaus and Diego now the timeline has changed. Will they ever be truly happy again?

“Don’t give up on them just yet.” A voice murmurs warmly from over his shoulders. 

Ben twists with a start when he sees Detective Patch has materialized there. The bullet wounds in her body are still fresh, but her smile is easy as she looks down fondly at Diego, standing behind the bar with his arms folded stubbornly as Five begins to rally his siblings together. 

“Klaus might not look like much, but he’s a scrapper and from what I’ve seen Diego can hold his own.” Dave murmurs supportively to her left. Ben nods silently and watches in awe as he walks towards the bannister to catch one last glimpse of Klaus, who is nodding his head insistently at Five’s declaration that their father’s legacy won’t define them, before disappearing. 

“They’ll find each other again.” Patch smiles, placing a gentle hand on Ben’s shoulder before withdrawing into the ether, "You'll see." 

“Yeah, baby. They just have to save the world first.” Ben grins to himself and no one at all, before transporting himself down to where Klaus had been sitting on the couch to watch the proceedings unfold. 

He just had to have a little faith.


End file.
